


Loyalty

by RSZealot



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, She doesn't appear, but she's discussed, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 03:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21349819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RSZealot/pseuds/RSZealot
Summary: Saurfang calls on Lor'themar, hoping to gain his support for the rebellion.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Lor'themar's wildly fluctuating character in order to support the "angry woman bad" narrative.
> 
> Also inspired by the Warcraft tabletop campaign I'm DM-ing, where this scene is canon.

Ratchet. The largest port city on Kalimdor, base of the Steamwheedle Cartel, a place where anyone with enough money can get anything, no questions asked. There, in a shadowy warehouse at the end of a grimy back street, sat Varok Saurfang and his merry band of rebels. They roused from their anxious silence as footfalls approached, and the door was pushed open.

There, in the doorway, stood Lor’themar Theron, Regent-Lord of Quel’thalas. Varok rose to greet him.

“Lor’themar, I am glad-”

“Silence Overlord.” Lor’themar’s voice was sharp, his fangs bared. “I know why you called me here, but I want to hear you admit it.” Varok grunted. This was not off to a good start.

“We need to take back the Horde. Windrunner has gone too far this time.” The other conspirators grumbled in a agreement. Lor’themar laughed. The sort of hearty, chuckling laugh that earned his people a reputation for snobbery.

“Which one? The old god slave, the hate group leader or the saviour of Quel’thalas?”

“Do not play games, elf.” Varok grumbled. “You know damn well which I mean.”

“And what, Overlord, has our dearest Warchief done to earn your ire this time?” Varok scowled.

“You know what she’s done Theron, she continues to lead the Horde down a dark path. A path without honor! Teldrassil burned-”

“Teldrassil burned because of your damned pride!” Lor’themar shot forwards, damn near growling. “If you had just followed your plan none of this would have happened!”

“I will not kill a helpless foe!” Varok roared back, matching the Regent-Lord’s fury.

“And now thousands are dead! Good job, really did the right thing there.” Varok’s fist clenched. Then, slowly, he released it, exhaling, sitting down in his chair.

“There is still time to change things.” He says, calmer now. “If we take down Windrunner, the Alliance will surely accept a peace.” Lor’themar scoffed.

“The Alliance wants us dead. All of us.” He looks out at the assembled rebels, his one good eye judging them. “The Kaldorei’s false friendliness belies a xenophobia that almost wiped out the Tauren; the humans hate the orcs and the Forsaken for what they -or their fathers- have done; Dwarf and human alike despise trolls, thinking you no less than savages; and at Stormheim Greymane and his lackeys showed that they would let the world burn if it meant they got the chance to kill us. Tell me Saurfang, who exactly would honor such a peace for long? The child they put up on a throne?”

The room was silent as Lor’themar finished, glaring at them all. He straightened out his back, standing tall above the seated audience. “While you lot tear families apart and pit brother and sister against each other, I and the Warchief will be fighting for our people. Whatever it takes. If it takes a mountain of corpses for us to survive, it will only be the second one I climb.” His head falls and he lowers his gaze. His next words are a half mumble. “At least this time it’s not our corpses...”

He pauses for a moment before continuing. “It is as true now as it was when I first said it, all those years ago. The Sin’dorei will prevail!”

“Even if it means losing all that make us what we are?” Varok rises back to his feet, more pleading now than anything.

Another laugh from Lor’themar, rougher and sharper.

“I don’t know about you Varok, but I’d rather see my people change then see them wiped out. And make no mistake, I do not care one iota what has to be done to survive. The only reason I’m not going to kill the lot of you right now is because of the Overlord’s importance in orcish society. Because of that, I’m willing to offer an ultimatum. Return to Orgrimmar and give up your title and we will let you continue as chieftain of the Blackrock. Refuse, and the next time you see me will be the last.”

The room falls silent once more.

Varok says nothing.

With no response, Lor’themar leaves.


End file.
